The graphic style known as 'manga' or 'anime' has come a long way from its comic-strip origins; Niall Kitson provides an introduction to what is now a worlwide visual phenomenon.

Stop me if you've heard this one before: 'Two white kids enter their video store of choice and make straight for the animation section. They root through boxes, talk loudly, basically wear their geekishness on their sleeves. Next thing an argument breaks out over what to watch. Wild gestures and scoffing. Then the cursing starts. In Japanese. Not fluent, but a poorly accented pidgin version with more than a hint of ebonics thrown in for good measure. As if that isn't enough, when peace breaks out the newly reconciled head for the counter singing the theme song to their movie of choice, again in Japanese.'

This is not some William Gibson-esque nightmare vision of the future, but an example of what is happening all over contemporary America as a generation self-educated in manga and anime (previously Japanimation) start to stray from appreciation of to synergy with oriental culture. Since the 1950s, writers such as Alexandre Kojevec have warned that 'the interaction of the West and Japan will not lead to a vulgarisation of Japan, but rather a Japanisation of the West', and what better way to illustrate this than in the appeal of an artform that has carved its niche using giant robots, satanic demons and fetishised schoolgirls, becoming the Orient's largest cultural export.

With an indigenous market worth some $3.6bn per year, composed of thousands of titles available through distributors, webrings and conventions, and with weekly sales greater than the entire annual American comic output, there is now a manga for every genre from biography to porn. Using a reticent style of narrative, cooly mixing the tragic with the hopeful, the playful with the apocalyptic, and an instantly recognisable visual shorthand, the manga aesthetic has become the standard by which new cartoon animation is measured. With a fanfiction underground every bit as vast as the mainstream industry, and its own unique brand of obsessive fans on which the 'friend or foe' jury is still out, animanga is definitely here to stay. If you don't know your Kimbas from your Evangelions all is not lost. Just be a good guest and leave your shoes at the door…

The full article is printed in Film Ireland 111.